Blonde Larson

[blondielarson]

My People (12)

Since the last time that you heard from me, things have not progressed. The publisher is still interested in drowning my hard work on the over saturated internet with no marketing. I guess on the bright side, I don't have to worry about money and working right now. That's given me a lot of free time to think about things and it's driving me insane. 

I am stuck on my writing. I think the stress of this publishing situation is weighing on me and straining my ideas. 

No contact from The Circle.  I made some, in my opinion, pretty valiant efforts to reach out to them. I messaged Arthur. I tweeted at JK Rowling.  I even bought pink sidewalk chalk, drew a big circle on the floor of my room, lit some candles, and did the single ladies dance. I am convinced that I will get to met Beyonce via The Circle eventually.

I'm feeling helpless and so I head home to visit my family in Philadelphia.  I'm indulging and taking Amtrak.  I love to watch industrial Elizabeth, NJ float by as we leave the city, it's powerful and dirty at the same time.

My sister, Julie, picks me up. She's getting her graduate degree at Temple and she's moved back in with my parents. They call each other roommates and watch American Idol together. Apparently, one of the contestants reminds my dad of me, because she's got fire in her eyes. I love that.

My sister and I have to share a room this weekend, which is actually really fun. She's taking me out with some of her friends. We giggle and gossip while we get dressed. She tells me about this guy that she is in to. His name is Sean, and he's a construction manager. He makes a ton of money and owns his own house. Mostly, she thinks he's really funny, and handsome. they haven't been out on a date yet.

We get to the bar, it's a pick up scene. Everyone I have known from high school is there picking up other people from high school. Margaret Smith, the goalie from my travel soccer team is making out with my cousin John in the corner. I'm sorry, but I can't not smack her butt right now. I sneak up and make move and they just get more into it.

Julie and I are at the bar getting a drink, she's pointing out Sean at the other end of the bar. This is when she tells me that they don't know each other. She's done recon on him, but never met him. 

Alright. Let's work this intelligence and find a way to get you in there.

Oh no. I think he'll come to us. 

Why? Why would that guy come over here? He's got friends over there.

Ok what do you want to drink? Whiskey Ginger.

Yes and stop distracting me! Order 3 and send one to him.

No way.

She wasn't going to do it, so I told the bartender to do it and say it was from Julie - despite her pleas, he was on my team. Three minutes later and stud muffin was all over her. 

This situation outlines a fundamental difference between Julie and myself. She waits and waits, while I make it happen. Now I'm feeling to antsy about this book stuff. I kiss Jules bye and head out, with a bottle in my purse for the walk home. 

I'm too wound up to go to sleep so I start looking through old photo albums. Pics of me and Julie in sand dunes in bikinis as kids, family trips to Florida to visit the cousins, and the Alligator World.  Theres a pretty white album that I haven't seen before. Turns out to be my grandparents wedding book. My grandmother just passed away last year. My grandfather is still hanging on, and frankly, I'm kinda sad she went first. From the moment they married she was his housemaid. He did whatever he wanted and she did whatever he wanted too. I don't really resent him for it, but I just wish she had some time on this Earth to do hers, you know. 

One time, on a similar photo binge session, I found an old polaroid of my grandfather sitting in a bar. There were scrawled notes on it: a circle around the arm of the person sitting next to him -  their face hidden by the white edge of the photo. On the back it said

Who's the whore?

2 AM on a Wednesday.

I know there's no use in me getting all pissed about the history of things. What can I do about how she was treated 50 years ago? The only thing I do is not let myself be complacent. I can be ambitious, I can fight for what I want. I'm going back tomorrow. I'm not going to sit around and wait and let them take my book without fighting for it.  Now I just need a plan.

[blondielarson]

The Deal (11)

Our photos were all over the internet. It was strange to see myself with someone I barely knew, and not Mike. Mike and I didn't talk about it.

I did talk about it with Kushner though. I talked as much as I could to him about it. I wrote him, what I thought was a hilariously cocky email. (You can't be too serious about these things.)

Marty, Is this enough of a platform? BL. 

I included no less than 25 links at the bottom of the email, including some critical reviews of The Atlantic snippet. I wanted to really overdue it, mission accomplished.

Marty called me later that day. A few publishers were interested in buying the book. What they were offering upfront meant that I could quit my job. I could write full time. I would even get a cut of all the sales. I  pushed to get a bigger percentage! ( I learned from my previous shitty salary negotiation skills at the agency.) By 3 PM it was deal done, signed and sealed. The first planning meeting would be the next morning.

The second I got off the phone I called my parents. I called Mike. I called my best friend Sara who lives in DC. 

I tried to sit down and write, but I was too fidgety. Too excited. I just sold my first book! This calls for celebration. I went down to my favorite cafe with a copy of The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes, my favorite. Today, I was allowed to read all day. I ordered whatever I felt like, which ended up being key lime pie and a couple martinis. I was a little drunk on the way home.

I stopped by a cute boutique on the next block over. They had a sexy little pink thing. I bought it on impulse.... I figure Mike should get to take part in the celebration too. That number plus a bottle of wine and he was a very happy man. We both were, but I was a woman still... 

The next day I waltzed into Kushner's office. I was feeling all very professional and big headed in a black blazer, but I was brought back down to Earth at about 5G's. I got the marketing budget for the book. I got the marketing plan for the book. It was shit. Really. The advance they had given me was a big number for a girl like me, but apparently not enough of an investment to get them to plan a decent release.

We made an investment in you as an author, and we really hope to work with you on future things.

They were just basically going to let it flop around on Amazon.com like a dying fish. I spoke up, but they didn't care very much. 

My teeth must have been about a centimeter shorter from grinding them so hard in the meeting. I guess I am going to have to take matters into my own hands here. Again. 

[beyondpetal]

[blondielarson]

Party Time (10)

I'm hungover sucking down a Chai Latte (soy! don't judge) at Starbucks as  I recall what happened last night. The piss smell of the crackhead sitting next to me reminds me that I am back in reality now. Last night, however. I was Cinderella.

I was a little anxious getting ready. I'm normally a pro at eyeliner, and putting it on straight, but last night I had to fix it three times. I found an easy hairdo on YouTube. (Love Michelle Phan.) and put on my catering duds, so Mike wouldn't be suspicious. Just black pants, black top. I actually borrowed his flask and brought a little whiskey on the subway ride. On my way out the door he reminded me to bring the magazine.

My train rode over the Manhattan Bridge. It was so clear out the skyline shown like the Emerald City. I know this is getting a little poetic, but just let me savor it.

I go down the steps to the dingy place, and Arthur is there. He's got five plates of food, half finished in front of him.

I was early, and hungry.

Classy.

Spin about.

What?

He twirled his hand. Ok fine, I did it. 

You did alright. Go in the restroom. Something's there for you.

A hit? Am I already that much of a threat.

Just get in there, we have to get going soon.

I nabbed a dumpling and walked towards the restroom in the back. Hanging up was what I would call, the perfect dress.  I cannot express how much I wanted to wear this thing. It was like the scene when the Russian gives Carrie the Oscar De La Renta dress. There was a little note pinned to it, in scrawled chicken scratch.

Put it on already. We're late.

This guy knows how to kill a moment. I put on the dress. Turns out it was by this designer Jenny Packham. Kinda Vintagey, short, sparkly. I barely recognized myself. I've never worn anything like this. I only buy things on sale. The material the dress was made of felt important. I felt important. I liked it.

I walked out. Arthur's table was cleared, he was in a tux, looking actually pretty handsome.  An alarm when off in my mind. Mike. Mike. Mike. This is business.

That works.

Thanks.

Now let's go.

Are you going to tell me where we're going?

He told me that tonight was the season premiere of season 2 of his show. There was a big launch party that the network was putting on. He was actually vying for one of his co-stars, who would help elevate his career even higher. Think Brad and Angelina. He needed me as bait. She apparently fancied herself a writer more than an actress, but hadn't had success. I would put her in a jealous rage right into his arms.

I felt relieved, and crushed. It was business on both ends, and  he didn't have to remind me about how being seen with him would help my "platform", but being seen with him meant that Mike would know I lied. 

Arthur pushed me to the car. We only had to go a few blocks away. His PR lady was in there telling us the schedule of events for the night when we arrived.  She opened the door and lights were flashing. 

SHUT IT

Arthur shut the door. 

What is your deal.

Look, I go out there, and I am choosing my career over the guy I love. I lied about where I was going tonight. We're already in rough territory. He can't find out like this.

So call him.

What?

Call him and tell him the truth. 

Now?

Do it fast. 

I called Mike. I told him that tonight had changed from what I thought it would be. I told him that Arthur was the actor who's event it was that I was supposed to cater. I had made my pitch with the magazine, and Arthur loved my story. He wanted to help me right away, and help himself too. I told him we'd be going out together tonight on a fake date to get press for business reasons. Arthur to get his girl, and me, to get famous. Mike bought it.  I mean, it was mostly true. He told me he was so glad that I had called. He was a little weirded out by it all. Lastly he said:

Are you coming home to me?

I wouldn't think of going anywhere else.

I really love you.

I really love you too.

We hung up. 

Ok. Let's go.

We stepped out of the car. I was at first a little sheepish. It's a strange thing, kinda like being tossed around in the ocean. The whitewater washing over you and jumbling you. There were so many flashes and people talking at once, pushing me in a million directions. Someone asked my name. I told them. Blonde Larson. I composed myself. From there I owned it. At the party I met Arthur's object, Katie. She was very sweet and genuine. I had expected a conceited actress. I really hope Arthur doesn't break her heart.

There was a group of us that went to this other bar afterwards. It was on top of the Standard Hotel. I can't even remember what it was called. It was class though. It had a view of the whole city. At one point, Arthur and Katie ended up dancing together on top of a white piano. I just looked around taking it all in. The dress sparkling, the city lit up beneath us out the window. I was holding a glass of champagne. I got an urge, and I went with it. I spun arms out like a little girl. The music and scene happened around me. 

[blondielarson]

Printed (9)

Sunday I was so exhausted I slept in late. Mike came back from the gym, I sleepily begged him to get back in with me. Finally he obliged, but he wouldn't let me sleep anymore. Afterwards, we went down to this muffin place around the corner. I guess it's really a coffee shop, but I call it a Muffin place because the Muffins are beyond. Like you know in Seinfeld how the do a whole episode about Muffin Tops, well this place, the bottom is as good as the top. The middle of the muffin is usually filled with a steaming heap of fruit that was fresh an hour ago when they put it in the oven. It's legitimately, the best, ever.

On the way over there we picked up our weekend read. I grabbed  a copy of The Atlantic. In case you aren't in the lit scene, the Atlantic is sort of like The New Yorker, but less self important... ok maybe not. Anyways, it is a literature and culture commentary magazine that comes out once a month. In certain circles, it can determine what people like. Mike picked up GQ. Arthur was on the cover. Ugh. Can't I just have one day of relaxation. 

We sat with our muffins and magazines. I like to read a mag cover to cover. No table of contents. Mike looked up at me. He smiled.

Now I know why you got The Atlantic! Why didn't you tell me?

He pushed down the magazine and kissed me. I could feel his happiness, but I didn't understand what brought it on. 

 I know it's been a while, but I am glad after three years you can still be this excited to get laid.

He laughed.  And told me not to be so dumb. He flipped over the cover of the magazine. Right there, in english words, it mentioned that it had an exclusive excerpt of my book.

What the. Someone needs to start telling me when they publish my shit.

I guess they gave me a platform. Damn. I've applied to The Atlantic, The New Yorker, to everything, with spec pieces and short stories a million times. I've never even heard back. I've never even really had confirmation that they read anything. Being published like this, and mentioned on the cover is good press to the right people. The publishers. This might seal the deal with one of them. This is nothing short of a miracle. 

Let's celebrate. Let's go to dinner tonight to celebrate, and rent Roman Holiday. I'll call in sick.

The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them.

What about Thursday.

I explained to him about a catering job on Thursday (I really really don't like lying to him, but unfortunately, I am kinda good at it). I had to do it. I told him it was for a really famous person, and now I felt extra pressure, because I could leave a copy with the magazine for them. It was a good opportunity to help add steam to the engine of this whole thing.

Sweet as pie, he smiled and kissed me. He said that he was so happy for me. He said that he totally understood. He is perfect. I am lucky as hell.

When we got home, I messaged Arthur.

I'm in.

Later that day I got a message back. Telling me to make sure I looked decent.

Do you hair and put some lipstick on.

This guy knows how to talk to a lady.

What am I getting into?

[blondielarson]

Mouth of Truth

[blondielarson]

The Feedback (8)

I have been getting a lot of unsolicited feedback lately.

Mike thinks I'm distancing myself from him.

Kushner thinks I need to create a public profile for myself.

The Circle thinks I need to be more of a team player.

Now, I will elaborate for you.

Mike and I have been passing ships in the night lately. I'm working late (2 AM - 3 nights a week) catering (which, actually pays a ton). He's up early to make it to his job by 8. The time I'm not working, I'm writing (which is actually, also considered working by me). I miss him. I think he's right. We are distancing. We haven't even done it in a week, it's like we're married (but we actually aren't, because he hasn't asked me.) I don't like it. I have resolved to make a really strong effort to spend more time together. It's all going to start with Valentine's Day this week. I have a date planned. There's a theater that plays old movies near us, and they always do a romantic one for Valentine's Day. We're going to see Roman Holiday - the Audrey Hepburn movie. I really love the part when the visit the mouth of truth and he pranks her that his hand is missing. It's the moment they fall in love. Mike already planned to take off work early.

Kusher. Good ol' Marty Kushner. This guy has been around forever. He knows the publishing industry and what works. The only thing is - that's the problem. I don't think he can see that my book is going to do well, because it's not what normally works. I think he's not giving the book buying public enough credit. He thinks I don't have a big enough profile, the publishers don't have a "platform" to release on. By platform, he means built in audience that already loves me. Like twitter followers or something. What I want to know is how can I have a platform, it's my first book? The only way I would have one is if I A) some kind of one off national hero (Captain Skully for the win) and B)I was some kind of heiress (heiress rhymes with Paris).  I guess this is what the publishers are telling him. They like the book well enough(read: a little), they just don't see it as fitting in with their model. They think my book has too much sex to make it as young adult, but is too immature to be fiction. It's too "in-between".  I find the situation infuriating.  I thought having an agent would mean it was all easy sailing. Well, since there's no wind, I've got oars out. I'm starting to think pretty seriously about taking this out on my own online. Why not? 

Now, for the juiciest update, The Circle. So, I got an email today that tells me that I received a private message on the network.

First contact!!!

I dove in to check it out. It was a note asking me to meet at a hole in the wall place in Chinatown called WoHop. I noticed that I could click through to see the page of the sender. It was this actor, Arthur Hall. He's a young guy, about my age. He's been a big theater actor since he graduated from Julliard, and now he's booked a role on a hot new HBO show about being young and wreck-less in Boston. Season 1 just won a bunch of Golden Globes, and he's the talk of town. Looking at his profile, I learn about his time as boxer. Apparently he had almost been a mid-weight champion, but he blew out his ACL. He seems like a pretty intense guy.  Then a little instant message popped up.

Hey. 

Hey there.

So can you meet me there

Hi Arthur, sure. When?

Thursday. 7:30 PM.

Um. I actually can't then. I have other plans that night. Hot date.

He wants to meet on Valentine's Day. No way. No can do. Gotta hot date.

Screw him. I promise I am a better date.

No can do.

Look, do you want to do this thing or not.

Last I checked, The Circle hasn't done anything for me. This is the first contact, asking me for stuff. This isn't what I signed up for.

Entitled much?

Why is everyone always calling my generation entitled. It's not normally someone the same age as me. It's normally someone I work for calling me a Millennium.

And you're not. Trying to force me on a date. I just want what I signed up for.

And, you thought it would be free.

Touché. Called me out.

No. But it can't be Thursday. 

It has to be, or your out. Check out the Atlantic's new issue tomorrow, then message me to let me know if you're coming. I'll need to know if I should make other arrangements. 

Then he was signed out. I signed out too. I looked up at the calendar, there was a big obnoxious heart around Thursday. This kinda shit always happens to me.

[blondielarson]

Perceptions (7)

The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. I'm not working at the agency anymore. I actually got fired - ha!

That's the first time I have even been fired from anywhere. I am a victim of the guilt associated with a Catholic upbringing, so I always follow the rules. It felt really fucking good to break them. Liberating. 

So, I accepted the offer. I mean, like I said before - how on Earth could I justify not doing this. It's practically too good to be true.  I finished my profile. I was really proud of a few cute jokes I put in there.    The dissapointing part is that, after completing the profile, I did not gain access to anyone else's profiles. I thought, join this thing, then you get to see the private information posted by the worlds cultural elite from Jay Z to Julian Schnabel. I thought this was my ticket to the in crowd. Actually, they basically told me that. I am actually still irritated about the fact that they have now invaded my privacy, and lied to me.  

I didn't tell Mike everything. I thought that he wouldn't believe me, honestly. I also am suspicious that he is a better person than me. I think that he would tell me that I don't need this to succeed. I admire him, he's brave enough to be an idealist, which unfortunately leaves him disappointed in the world more often than not. He always takes the high road though.  I know I've told you that I am an optimist, but I know the reality of things. I know enough reality that I know to get what I want I need this. I don't see harm in joining a club. It's not like I am selling my soul to the devil.

What I did tell Mike, is that JK Rowling DID visit me(true, though hard to swallow). I told him that I met her through work (true), that I gave her my info (true), that she actually read my novel (true, still floored by this), and that she wanted to support me (kinda true). I told him that she was mentoring me (errr, not true), and that though she lives in the UK she plans to help connect me to the right people to get it made (errr, again...) and that she will be giving me advice over email. OK so that whole second bit is lies.  I know it's not good to lie in a relationship.  I have always been honest with Mike. I really love him. I just think in this one case it's better. He will want to know too much, and I don't think that's a good idea at this point.

Ok, back from the great Mike tangent of 2013. I almost forgot to write about how I got canned, pink slipped, the ol' cut her loose.

Well, after the meeting with JK Rowling, I had renewed self confidence. She reminded me that yes, I am talented, yes I have material that's great, and that this hell hole cubical is not my destiny or my obligation. So, I started to get a little sassy at the office. 

1. I didn't take the trash out for 3 weeks. Someone noticed the smell. If I am being totally honest, I think it drew some rats.  One of the assistants saw a big one in the ladies room prompting her to quit.  In my opinion, it serves them right for being a company that earns millions each year, but is too cheap to hire a proper janitor.

2.  I started full on writing at my desk. That means that I spent the entire work day for three weeks writing the a good portion of the sequel to "Chasing Avalon". I had to answer the phone and say hello to people in person and stuff, but I did not respond to one email.  This was the most efficient writing that I've ever done. This has completely confirmed my theory that email is the world's biggest waste of time.

3. I "abused my control of the company's social media accounts". Those are their words. In my eyes, I promoted some of their more developing talents, like myself. While I had access to a few million followers, I figured I should take advantage of it. I just tweeted some good news "Just signed @blondelarson. Can't wait to put her book "Chasing Avalon" on shelves." 

I guess it didn't matter that there wasn't an ounce of truth in the tweet. My getting fired happened at the right time. Six other agencies reached out to me within a week. I am now signed with Kushner, Feinstein & Associates. That is one of the best lit managers in New York. They are shopping my book now, as I apply for retail jobs and gigs cater-waitering on Craigslist.

That's the shitty part about my little rebellious streak, no severance, and no unemployment benefits. Ugh. All this was spawned by my visitor last month. However, I still don't understand what THE CIRCLE is going to do for me.

Maybe it's all bullshit, but then why on earth did JK Rowling buy me key lime pie?

[wishiwasanartist]

45/365

[blondielarson]

The Visit (5)

I'm feeling kind of pissed about this video thing. Clearly this is a highly technical organization, but they can't just take my photo without asking.  Mike came in the room. I think he sensed my energy. He seemed to feel bad for interrupting whatever he thought I was doing. The sight of him relaxed me a bit, someone I trusted. He let me know that there was a woman at the door to see me. I was pretty surprised, because I hadn't expected anyone. I stepped out to the living room/kitchen(cut me some slack this is NYC!). There was a woman at my door and she looked like JK Rowling. This woman gathered pretty quickly that our place wasn't going to offer privacy, so she invited me to the diner downstairs in a British accent.

Like a zombie I followed her without question. We walk downstairs together. Part way down the stairs I wake up and say

This address wasn't on my business card.

She smiled and didn't stop walking.

Neither was your email.

Goddammit. It's her and I knew it;  she's in on it. We sat down in the diner, and didn't even begin to speak until we had ordered our coffee. Tea for me. I think coffee is for addicts. She told me that this meeting was strictly confidential. At that moment I saw Mike walk in wearing a hat and his aviator sunglasses. Oh, how he loves those aviators! He slipped on a stool at the bar,  ordered a coffee, and picked up the paper. This is pretty adorable! Checking up on me, playing spy! Why won't he ask me to marry him already. I turned back to JK and I had just missed what she said. Shit. I had missed something important.  I apologized and told her that I was still a little star struck and having a hard time following. She got surprisingly mad.

     Effective communication is the foundation on which we have built our organization. At this time, I will not alert anyone else of your insult, but watch yourself. The others will not be so forgiving.

I straightened up. She looked satisfied and went on.

You seem to have been alarmed, by the sign up process. Please don't be offended,  The Circle is like a family. We'll support you in every possible way to reach your dreams, but in return you must be completely open and honest with us.

I told her I didn't even really know what the Circle was. How could I make a promise like that without any understanding of who or what I was making that commitment to.  That's when she pulled out a hardcover book from her purse and put it on the table. The cover was beautiful. The most beautiful modern book cover I have ever seen. It was special, and it popped.  I felt this rush come over me, that I had to open it immediately. When I flipped open the book, my own face, my own biography, stared back at me from the cover sleeve. I closed it again quickly. The cover said "Chasing Avalon".  I know that title. I know that title very well. I wrote it. This was my manuscript, published. Bitch say what?!

[blondielarson]

The Offer (6)

How do you have this? Who did the cover art? Who published this!

You must calm down. Your drawing attention to us. Although it looks like someone was already paying attention.

Mike looked over. She recognized him immediately.

He's just looking out for me.

He's a burden on you.

How.

As long as he's here, I can't answer any of your questions.

I felt an animalistic urge to growl, protect my territory by pounding my chest or lunge at her with my hot pink nails of fury. I was fuming. She smiled.

I'm not trying to intimidate you I promise you that, I have protocol to follow. Please go along. I promise this will be good for you.

I reluctantly got up to asked Mike to go back upstairs. I assured him I was fine by rubbing my thumb in his palm. It's a thing we do.  He left and I went back to the table. There were 2 plates of key lime pie, my favorite. Of course she knew that.

A peace offering. Now let me tell you a story.

I listened as she recounted her tale. A single mother, with a passion for writing and an amazing story. Her tale was bigger than one book, but that's all she had put to paper so far. The publishing process was crushing her. She was up burning her time with her kid and any ounce her hope by meeting with countless executives that couldn't see the genius. She was on social security and barely making ends meet. Then, one day, she got a letter. She reminded me that there was a time before emails. Real adults always do that shit.  The letter gave her hope. The Circle didn't write the story, it didn't give her a red carpet right away, but it gave her entrance to a community that could help her find a path to success. She took it. The community helped her spread her story for the world, and the rest is history.

She told me, that I now had a similar opportunity.

I asked her why did I have that opportunity.

She said that it takes one recommendation.

One of us sees something in you. Then we watch you. We gather information to decide if you have what it takes to join us. You have passed that test. I've read your book, and it's quite impressive.  We are a very select group.  There are only one thousand members globally. 

I told her I need to think about it.

Then she laid it all out for me. I could continue my meaningless day to day delivering Tassimo espressos to people that won't even look up from their computers, and answering the phones with a halfhearted smile. She even knew that they make me take out the trash on my floor.  She said I had another option, to unleash my creativity on the world. I could be a part of culture, a part of history.

I thanked her for the pie, and asked her how I notify them of my choice. She told me to complete the online profile, and they would reach out again. I would know it when it happened. She wouldn't be seeing me again.

I walked back up to our place. Mike had her wikipedia page up. He asked me ten questions at once. I told him I was exhausted and I wanted to talk about it tomorrow. Rejected, he said good night and turned back to his lap top.

I laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling at the fan. As the blades went round and began to blurr, I almost laughed. Am I really going to turn down this offer?

[palatially-deactivated20131004]

[blondielarson]

The Click (4)

I did it. I clicked on the button. I was pretty nervous, so it ended up being almost exactly 24 hours before did it. I was half anxious, half eager to see a screen that said

Sorry girl, you missed the boat!

I was taken to a white screen with a form for me to fill out. I guess this is the part where I build my profile.

Name:

Sex:

Sexual Orientation:

Relationship Status:

Occupation:

Schools:

I started to click into the fields, and they filled up for me. Of course they already knew this stuff. I get it, you have a lot of power over me! I am just a minon!

The next section was the strange, harder part.

First there was a screen that instructed me how to proceed for the following series of images. It was going to give me a Rorschach Test, you know where you look ink blots and say the first thing that comes to mind. I can't show you what the images were, but these are my answers.

Butterfly

Bear

Love

Fear

Bat

Fun

Human

Lion

I will note that at about slide 8 I started wondering why they cared what my word reaction was and not my physical reaction, or my facial expressions. Then I noticed that the green light was on my computer. They had been recording me. I slammed my computer closed and just at that moment the doorbell rang.

[blondielarson]

The Email (3)

By the luring title, you are probably thinking that JK wrote me. She didn't. This is actually a little more strange.

I did get an email that is of interest, and I can't shake a feeling that she is connected to it in some way. Perhaps that's because I am an optimist.

Well. Now, at the risk of making myself sound like a lunatic, I am going to tell the truth.

I got an email in my inbox last night. There was no "from" address. It was directed to my personal email, the subject said " An Invitation". 

Dear Blonde M. Larson,

We've noticed you, and feel that you have great potential to be an important member of society and a voice in the conversation of culture.

We would like to invite you to join THE CIRCLE. Not unlike other social networking websites, you will complete a profile, and other users will be able to view and connect with you. You will benefit greatly from these associations. These are not average people in THE CIRCLE.

Please click here to start your profile. You have 24 hours before this email dissapears.

Please note, this is an exclusive, secret, non-transferrable invitation. You may not disclose this information, without jeopardizing your status within THE CIRCLE.

Sincerely,

The Committee

Uh, what?

So this must be bullshit right? First, emails don't disappear. That's not possible. However, there are a few things that make me really believe what this email says. 

I couldn't take a screenshot of the email. My computer wouldn't do it. I tried restarting etc. 

There was no fwd button or reply button on my gmail. I don't know about you, but that's never happened to me before.

What the hell kind of computer, gypsy, witch magic is this?

I am kind of a sucker for a good conspiracy theory. After getting this email, I was late to work watching YouTube videos on illuminati conspiracies. The Beyonce ones are my favorite. <3 Bey.  There are also tons of crazies unleashed on the internet that think that JK is from an illuminati family bloodline, they often use the term "monarch priest". Yep, bonkers.  It seems that these conspiracy theorists think that she is essentially an actress hired to play the part of the author of the books. I mean, it's totally not possible for a beautiful woman to write a series of epic novel that everyone loves, am I right? Not a WOMAN!

Anyways. The point is. I got a weird email, I can't stop thinking about it at work. I have like twelve hours to click this thing and I can't decide if I should.

[crelzyll]

[blondielarson]

The Wait (2)

So. It's been a month. No word from my girl JK Rowling.

In my head I've created a number of reasons that she has not reached out. Here are my top 5.

She was assassinated by right wing Christian activists that have for years been fighting the good fight against her witchcraft propaganda.

She fell in love with the handsome man sitting next to her on her flight back to the UK. They decided to elope to Paris and then honeymoon on Christmas Island (no connectivity). So, although she's been itching to contact me, she couldn't if she wanted to.

She left my card in her pants pocket and it's now at the drycleaners. When she picks it up, they have no recollection of said card. She asks to speak to the manager, who offers her a free shirt pressing next time she is in. She storms out in anger. 

Her dog ate it. 

She forgot for 2 weeks and then got concerned that I might forget our encounter and be weirded out that called me out of the blue. 

I wish I could just let her know that if it's number 5, I will not be weirded out. I would really welcome the contact! I've even got some great yelp reviews of wine bars in the city. Next time she's in town, we can check 'em all out. Wine bar crawl.  

[maitecrama-blog]

[blondielarson]

the wheel has come full circle.